


Wayfinding

by koanju (verstehen)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-28
Updated: 2012-10-28
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:16:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/verstehen/pseuds/koanju
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Hey, Dad?" Stiles looked up from the SAT prep book his dad had slapped on the kitchen table and pointed to an hour ago, right after dinner. "How did you know you wanted to be a cop?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wayfinding

"Hey, Dad?" Stiles looked up from the SAT prep book his dad had slapped on the kitchen table and pointed to an hour ago, right after dinner. "How did you know you wanted to be a cop?"

His dad looked up from the paperwork he'd been doing. Stiles had taken a peek when his dad had gone to the bathroom and had been relieved it was mostly mundane shift reports from the new deputies and one burglary he'd needed to sign off on. Nothing that was werewolf related (not that Stiles thought it would be given he hadn't heard about any maulings or deaths but you never knew, right?). "What brought this on?"

Stiles tapped the SAT book. "I know I've got to go to college to get a job. But I don't know what job to get. What I want to do with my life." He hesitated, but honestly, this was his dad and Stiles wanted to try and repair their damaged relationship. "I thought about what I'm really good at and all I could come up with was figuring out puzzles --"  _And wrangling werewolves_ , but it wasn't like he could say that. "So I thought about being a cop, like you." He licked his lips, staring his dad straight in the eye. "But I've seen what it does to you. The victims, the crime scene photos --" 

"The actual crime scenes," his dad interrupted, smiling fondly. 

But Stiles was on a roll and if he didn't get it all out now, he never would. "And the late nights, and the drinking and to be fair that didn't start until Mom died, and sometimes you talk in your sleep and have nightmares, and I don't want that for myself." 

His dad was still smiling at him. "It's okay, Stiles. I'm actually glad you feel that way. I don't want it for you either. And after all the crime scenes, I was... concerned you thought it might be good training." 

He shrugged and nodded. "It would be." Stiles raised his eyebrows at his dad. "You still haven't answered my question: how did you know? How did Mom know she wanted to be an architect?" He felt kind of crappy asking his second question unprepared because he knew how bad it would make his dad feel. 

Instead of losing his smile or going for the alcohol, his dad reached across the table and squeezed his shoulder. "You mother always liked to build and design things. I think she found it a natural transition." He let go and leaned back in his seat. "It was a little harder for me. Actually, for a while in high school I wanted to open and run my own martial arts studio." He laughed at Stiles's shocked expression.

"Betrayer!" He shouted at his dad, pointing at him. "You never let me take karate like I wanted when I was a kid!" 

"I didn't because I didn't want the fight over Scott not being able to come. Even without his asthma, Melissa never would have let him." For all that Scott was a genuinely amazing human being, or werewolf -- whatever, Stiles remembered how much of a douche his dad had been. Giving Scott the opportunity to hit other people probably felt like asking for trouble for Mrs. McCall. Stiles nodded and gestured for his dad to go on. "I sort of stumbled on it. I stopped a mugging on my way to a construction job I was working. The officer that came to pick up the perp told me to come to the academy. It was better money plus benefits and a pension -- so I did." He grinned a little. "I was as surprised as anyone to find out I liked it and was good at it. Then I met your mom." 

"By writing her a parking ticket," Stiles said. It was one one of his favorite stories about his parents. 

"I couldn't ever quit after that," his dad agreed. "So do you have any other ideas?"

"Not really? I mean, that's sort of the problem. Too many. Firefighter, astronaut --"

"Didn't they basically shut the space program down?"

Stiles glared at his dad. "Not the point! Professional lacross player, Will Smith, Sherlock Holmes, brain surgeon..." At his dad's look, Stiles waggled his fingers. "What? I think I have the hands of a brilliant surgeon!"

"Any other ideas that don't sound like the answer a five-year old gives?"

Stiles shook his head and frowned down at the SAT book. "Is it bad I really don't know?"

"No, god, Stiles. No one expects you to have it all figured out." 

"Scott does. He wants to be a vet," Stiles pointed out. 

"You're not Scott, kiddo." His dad reached over and lightly smacked the back of Stiles's head. "And frankly, I'm pretty damn glad of that." 

Stiles gave in and scrambled out of his chair so he could hug his dad. "You're the best, dad." 

"I know." His dad returned the hug just as tightly. "You'll figure it out, kiddo. If I could do it, you can. And when you do, I'll be proud of you, whatever you decide."

"Thanks, Dad," Stiles told him, voice tight, as he pressed his face into his dad's shoulder. 


End file.
